Catalyst
by Frenetic-Kinetic
Summary: Post-Jak X. AU. When a homeless Taryn is put up by Jak and Daxter, it becomes the catalyst for a series of unexpected events. Multi-chapter.
1. Sojourn

**A/N:** I decided to explore the Jak/Taryn pairing a little more. I already had a multi-chapter story in mind, and, funnily enough, reviewers of _Third Time's The Charm_ suggested I do a follow-up. I did attempt to have this as a sequel to that drabble, but I couldn't quite get it to work.

So, dear readers, please review! Constructive criticism and suggestions are very welcome. Also, mucho thanks to melliemellie for being my beta!

* * *

**~ One ~**  
**Sojourn**

Perplexity, resentment and rejection – the adolescent's countenance couldn't possibly have displayed just one of those emotions, but somehow it did. Green eyes narrowed at the taunting nature of the padlock across her door; against the knowledge that she hadn't the strength to pull it free, her gloved hand tugged. It was her friend's place, really, but, since they had shed the mortal coil, Taryn couldn't afford the rent to stay – hence the oversized padlock. She let go of it and turned away, to observe the cloudy, afternoon sky.

So far, today had not been particularly good, nor astonishingly bad, but the blue-haired teen was in the mood for a strong drink. _To The Naughty Ottsel it is_, she thought grimly. As she traversed the cleaned up, rebuilt Slums, her heavy-duty boots lazily scuffed against the ground, mind almost willing rain to fall – then, at least, she could get sympathy for being soaking wet.

Pushing such depression from her psyche, she wondered who would be at the tavern tonight and if there even _was_ a drink strong enough to cheer her up. It was a possibility that Daxter would let her sojourn in the place. Then, the following day, she could go 'house-hunting'; where would be anyone's guess, but that would be dealt with tomorrow.

* * *

_The Naughty Ottsel_ was not packed with people – a weekday, bad weather and pre-peak time were the culprits. Still, Taryn supposed it was for the best; she would not make particularly good company tonight. If she could just sit, drink and listen to patrons' banter, everything would be _peachy_. At the bar, Orange Lightning himself was pouring drinks. With a silent nod, he had her favourite beverage instantaneously before her stool. There, she parked her behind and attempted to relax.

"Tarry!" came a cheer from her side. Puffing on his cigar and taking a seat two down from her, Jinx appeared perfectly at ease. There was an inward sigh, but the green-eyed eighteen year old gave a half-hearted greeting. She _hated_ that nickname. Sense had told her to kill him the first time he used it, but his ghost would have probably haunted her instead.

The pyromaniac was already talking Taryn's ear off, so she occasionally nodded at his remarks or shook her head, if the need called for it. Eventually, however, those reactions weren't satisfying enough, and he tilted his head to the side, studying her disposition.

"You're helluva quiet today," he remarked; she couldn't tell if he was genuinely worried about her wellbeing or merely making conversation. Then again, did it really matter? The subject was going to come up, sooner or later.

With a deep breath, her confession emerged. "I'm homeless."

A question was hidden within that remark – _can anyone put me up?_ – and the intuitive blonde immediately picked up on it. "You got no place to go, right?"

There was a nod and pleading optics.

"I can't put you up."

"You _can_. You just need to empty your attic of girls."

"That's a lot to ask, Tarry." He mock-sighed at her suggestion.

"Ugh, please don't call me that," she grumbled. "Makes me sound like a man."

"Well, you _do_ kinda act like one, sometimes." That earnt him a barrage of thumps to the arm, but he refused to duck and be beaten that easily. Checking his arm, he pulled a face. "See what I mean? I'm gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow."

"Oh, don't be such a wuss! I didn't hit you _that_ hard." The blue-haired adolescent paused for a minute, then decided to push for an answer. "So?"

"'So' what?" Jinx teased. Her beseeching expression had him sighing in exasperation. "Seriously-"

"When are you _ever_ serious?"

"_Seriously_," he repeated. "I just can't. The place ain't mine, and, even if it was, there's no room, alright?"

"Okay. Fine." Taryn's tenor contradicted her reply. "Do you know of someone else?"

"Why don't ya ask your good friend, Ashelin?" the blonde teased. "She could prob'ly find someplace temporary, at least."

She frowned. "No."

"Still got a problem with authority, huh?"

"Damn right I have."

"Well, I'm outta ideas." He sipped from his glass. The teen's brow furrowed, as she struggled to conjure any other sensible ideas for temporary lodgings.

Daxter, who had previously filled himself with drink, thankfully keeping him mute, finally piped up. "Why _are_ you homeless, anyway?"

"My roommate…left," she said carefully. "I stayed, free of charge; since they're gone, I can't afford the rent."

The Ottsel nudged her arm and raised an eyebrow. "I got just the place for ya."

"Where?"

"There's a spare room that's never used."

The blue-haired beauty felt a mixture of relief and apprehension. It sounded too good to be true. "Alright, what's the catch?"

"Well, Jak uses my pad as a harem lounge, but, if you don't mind that, it's fine."

She buried her face in both arms. It had been expected that the answer would miraculously have nothing to do with homelessness. Besides, she didn't want to associate the words "Jak" and "harem".

The pyromaniac wore a grin on his face, and, with a puff of his cigar, asked, "The place got any other definin' features?"

Taryn thumped him again, perhaps harder than necessary this time, but she was still mortified by the entire conversation. He let out a cry of pain, which she ignored. Turning to Daxter, her face was quizzical. "Please tell me that Jak thing isn't true…"

"Ooh, jealous, are ya?" the pint-sized, orange hoodlum grinned. Elbowing her, he added, "Betcha wish you were part of that _entourage_."

With a roll of the eyes, unable to keep her cheeks darkening a little, the adolescent decided to concentrate on finishing her drink. "You've got one more screw loose than I thought."

"Who hasn't, in this dump?"

"True."

There was silence again, for a while after that.

"So, Taryn, what's the verdict?" Orange Lightning enquired.

"Hmm?" said female murmured, dodging the question.

"Stay at my place for the night, eh?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Just say _yes_, Tarry," Jinx sighed. At her reluctance, he added, "Look, ya got no place else."

Staring at her beverage, getting lost in the pool of golden liquor, she allowed herself a minute to consider the offer of lodgings. The answer was simple, but something defiant kept refusing to give way. Her emerald optics darted between the males, and her shoulders slumped. She gave in. "Alright, Fuzzball. I'll stay with you…but _only_ tonight." Her stomach grumbling, she rose from her seat. "I'll get some eats and some of my things, then meet you back here, okay?"

"Sure thing," the Ottsel grinned, watching her walk away.

* * *

Daxter's home was tucked somewhere between the Port and rebuilt Gardens, which was perfect for him to move quickly between the bar and heading into Haven Forest with Jak. The Ottsel had trotted alongside Taryn, pointing out the shortest route to get from place to place, and she was grateful that he took the time…although slightly irritated about his acting as if she was staying for more than one night.

The house itself was relatively small, although larger than the teen was used to; the places she stayed had always been half the size, at best, and far more disorganised. The narrow, long hallway led into a connected kitchen/lounge – there were dishes, cutlery and even tools scattered all over the place, along with things dotted about the walls, which consisted of a calendar, a couple of posters and a clock that looked like it came from the Old World.

"Oh, you just moved in, then?" she teased, pointing at the mess.

The Ottsel performed his best mock-affronted pose. "If you're gonna be rude, I'm not lettin' ya stay."

She stuck her tongue out, then grinned and followed him up the narrow flight of stairs, towards the bedrooms. The guest room was the last on the right, and, as the pair entered, her green orbs lit up.

It wasn't as small as expected and, besides the layer of dust, was clean and tidy. It consisted of a single bed against one wall, opposite a wooden chest of drawers and standing mirror; this was to the right of a large window, which offered a generous view of the world outside. It was more than enough. Apart from sleeping, Taryn didn't really do much time at home. She was a nomad at heart and often off on little odd jobs around Haven.

She had just the one bag of vital possessions and was practically settled in already. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she let out a deep breath to calm herself. Concerned about her wellbeing, Daxter hopped onto the end of the bed and gently patted her knee, as reassurance. Grateful, she returned a soft smile.

He beamed and hopped off, trotting out of the room. "I got someplace to be, so I'll leave ya to it. Sleep well!" The door shut behind him.

Taryn looked around the room again. An unexpected yawn escaped and she opted to go straight to sleep. She settled on the surprisingly comfortable mattress and turned off the light, closing her eyes.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

By the time Jak returned home, it was the middle of the night. He lazily stumbled through the hallway and into the kitchen/lounge, flicking on the light. Tossing his jacket over a chair, hooking off his goggles and propping the Morph Gun against a solid surface, he prepared to have a drink, then head up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

There was a sudden noise from the floor above. Cerulean eyes narrowed and the blonde silently retrieved his weapon. Stealthily, he slinked upstairs; whatever it was, footsteps were coming from the bathroom…and heading his way. Pausing outside the room and holding the gun in his arms, he awaited the stranger's appearance.

The door opened and out stepped Taryn. She visibly jumped, emerald optics wide and breath hitching. With a relieved breath, Jak lowered the Morph Gun and ran a hand through his collar-length hair. Dressed in tight, charcoal pedal-pushers and a red t-shirt – which was the closest thing she had to pyjamas – her face, body and rumpled hair showed the signs of fatigue. She was breathing deeply, glad to no longer be in the sights of a Blaster, and coyly waved, unsure about the male's response to her presence.

_Perhaps it'd be wise to say what I'm doing here_, she considered. "I…um…I…" she stammered, which wasn't a fantastic start. Clearing her throat and regaining some confidence, she began again. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm staying the night."

To her surprise, Jak seemed puzzled, as if hearing that for the first time. It then occurred that he had.

"Daxter didn't tell you, did he?" she huffed. With a shake of his head, he let out a sigh and a shrug. _Typical Daxter_.

"It doesn't matter, 'though."

"I didn't realise. Look, if it's putting you out…"

"It's not, Taryn," he said. "Stay."

She blushed and looked at her feet. "Thanks," was the quiet reply.

Sweeping a hand through his blonde-green locks, he decided the atmosphere was in need of cheering up. His face broke into a smile. "Thirsty?"

Taryn shrugged. It had been a long day, and it would be nice to be in the presence of a _normal_ man, for a change. She nodded. _I can't sleep, anyway._


	2. Vanity

**A/N:** I really hope that each chapter of this story is balanced and consistent – this one was particularly awkward. I'm out of practice with writing, so it's a pain to get back into the swing of things.

I also wanted to mention that, although Jinx is my favourite, Jak's almost as much fun to write. I really like that the latter isn't overly angsty or happy and even seems to come over as playful and mischievous at times. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear that capable of sweet talking women. "Deal" is not asking nicely, Jak. XD

Oh, another thing I quickly wanted to mention – Taryn's nickname, Bloo, is from the character in _Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends_, who reminds me a lot of Daxter…only somehow more hyperactive.

* * *

**~ Two ~**  
**Vanity**

It had seemed a good idea at the time. Tired and lacking the motivation to walk halfway across the city, Taryn had been offered a lift – by Jinx, of all people. Now, however, she felt deep regret at agreeing to such a thing. He refused to stop asking about any late night activities she and Jak might have taken part in. Her initial response of "we just talked" hadn't doused his dirty sense of humour at all.

"Shut _up_," she groused. "Or, so help me, I'll kick you out of this cruiser."

"Gee, _somebody's_ grumpy today," he chuckled.

"Thanks to you."

"Ya know what I think?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

"I think you're grumpy, 'cause ya didn't get lucky with Pretty Boy."

The blue-haired adolescent stared at the passing surroundings, silently fuming. Unfortunately, there was no way to get free of her cigar smoking, blonde friend today. They had received a task from Torn, which involved delving into the mucky, dank Sewers and retrieving an unusual artefact. She would have declined, had it not been for her financial dearth.

For the entire ten minutes of her silence, Jinx relentlessly rambled about various things involving Jak – most of which were sordid. It was making the concept of her living arrangement far more awkward; she hoped her burning cheeks hadn't visibly coloured. To hopefully blot out the pyromaniac's words, her psyche focused on what she had discussed with the blue-eyed nineteen year old the previous night. There wasn't much to recall, since her fatigued brain had only worked at half-capacity, but it mostly regarded Daxter's kindness, which was the reason for a comfortable bed. She had also clarified that it was to be a one-night sojourn; today was for finding a new place to live.

"I am really not in the mood for this crap, right now," she whined, leaning her weary body against the seat and crossing both arms across her chest.

Not one to be discouraged, Jinx playfully tugged the girl's arm and took a brief look at her disgruntled countenance. "Sure you're up for headin' through the Sewers? I _can_ go this mission alone."

"No," she insisted. "I need the money."

With the many distractions, she hadn't even noticed they were already in the Industrial Zone, and, in a matter of minutes, the cruiser swiftly traversed the tight, metal passageways, settling neatly by the ramp that led into the Sewers. The blonde hopped off the vehicle and was already charging to the large, silver door, but Taryn took her time and eventually joined him, not understanding why he was so alert and eager, this early in the morning.

The locks clicked and door split in twain, allowing them to progress. Instantly, stale air assaulted their senses and she gagged; it had been a long time since going underground and she was no longer desensitised to the odours.

Traversing the narrow grates that formed makeshift pathways, anything would have been good enough to distract her from such surroundings, but she decided it would be particularly entertaining to enact vengeance on the pyromaniac for his earlier comments.

"I'm surprised you were convinced to come back down here, considering the way Daxter described your statue adventure," she smirked. When Krew had assigned the demolition duo with a mission that involved escorting Jinx, Grim and Mog to the Statue of Mar, Taryn had wished for nothing more than to be a fly on the wall.

The elaborate rendition involved Krew's men being scared out of their wits and incapable of defending themselves; the Ottsel, of course, had saved the day. Jak was blatantly discredited as the pathetic sidekick – the comment rewarded with a light slap across the back of Daxter's head.

"Bite me, Bloo." Obviously, Jinx's masculinity had been brought into question. "_You've_ never fought anythin' bigger than a Metal Bug."

There was a frown and fold of the arms. "Metal Bugs might be small, but they are a royal pain in the butt. At least Grunts are big, lumbering things – makes them easy to hit."

"Damn it, girl, don't say that! They'll come in packs and we'll be dead meat!"

"Hey, _you're_ the jinx, not me," came the cool reply.

He glared. "This is for what I said earlier, right?"

"Yes."

"Are ya gonna do this the whole way?"

"Maybe. _Unless_ you take back everything you said." She beamed, possessing the innocence of a newborn baby. But he wasn't that naïve. _Innocent, my ass. What is it with broads and their grudges?_

"Fine. _Fine_. I take it back. Leave my emasculated pride in peace."

"I promise."

* * *

After what felt like an age, the pair reached a large, open section, which had been drained of most of its water two years prior. Against the far wall lay a sodden box, made of Precursor metal and covered in ornate whorls. In the centre of the lid was a bulbous, blue gem, which shimmered from an inner light source. It appeared completely untouched, apart from the padlock, which had rusted to almost nothing and would be easy to break off.

However, just as Jinx advanced and prepared to do so, Taryn froze and turned a hundred and eighty degrees. He nudged her, but she didn't look away.

"Thought I heard something," she muttered.

He sighed. "Cut it out and lemme work."

Convinced it was her overactive imagination, her expression softened and she returned to the matter at hand, handing him a crowbar from her backpack. "I hope you can get that chest open, because I really don't like the idea of lugging the whole thing back to HQ."

The blonde went about removing the lock, which quickly loosened and clattered to the ground, the fierce sound of metal striking metal resonating throughout the entire area. Unfortunately, that was merely stage one. The lid of the chest had become jammed against the main body. He began gently moving along the lid with the crowbar, in order to free it.

Taryn's head swung round at high speed, something abruptly capturing her attention. It was that unusual sound from before, only more distinct this time…and on the move. The pyromaniac hadn't appeared to have noticed, which made her wonder if she really was imagining it. Heart pounding, mind racing, she peered into the stygian gloom. Taking a couple of steps forward, prepared to shoot the disturbance, if need be, she was startled by her friend's yell. Her pistol aimed at whatever had caused such commotion.

And she groaned.

Perched atop the box, flicking its long tail from left to right and glowing a brilliant shade of gold, was a Muse. The teen lowered her firearm and replaced it into its holster, then struck Jinx across the back of the head.

"Damn it! What was that for?" he cried, gripping his skull.

"Next time, it'll be the crowbar," she snapped. "You're such an idiot." Upon looking at the 'frightening creature', with its oversized orbs of dark green staring inquisitively at the two humans, the situation turned humourous. "This _definitely_ tops that escort mission. Absolutely _priceless_."

The adorable animal, halfway between a cat and squirrel, bounded off and landed next to the green-eyed girl. The latter tentatively held her hand out, and it was sniffed, then gently head-butted. The Muse purred loudly and eagerly chirruped at the blonde's curses, as if in retort. He grumpily retrieved the crowbar and resumed his work.

After a good few minutes of levering, the lid finally came free. Jinx was then able to push it off and get to the contents. As expected, the item they needed was sat within – roughly the size of a football, rounded, and covered in more glyphs of Precursor writing.

It appeared that the golden creature was excited by such a find, as it crouched and wiggled its behind. Jinx grabbed the device and fitted it into his backpack, then returned the crowbar to Taryn. She gave a small wave to the Muse, as, with their job done, it was high time to depart.

* * *

Out of the dank Sewers and into the (relatively) fresh air of the Industrial Zone, the blue-haired adolescent stretched and let out a relieved breath. Activating a communicator, the pyromaniac relayed the positive news to Torn.

"_Good work. We're one step closer to getting a new Sage."_

"Great," Taryn remarked, with a notable lack of enthusiasm. "Am I getting paid now?"

"_Hold your horses. There's one more thing I want you to do. Just deliver the device to Keira. That's all. Then come back to me, and you'll both get your damn money."_

"Right. I can do that," she cut in, before the blonde could respond. He simply shrugged, not seeming to mind too much. "I'm heading there, anyway."

"_I don't care how it gets there – just that it does, and in one piece."_ The line went dead.

"Always a tight-ass," Jinx retorted.

"Ohhh, yes," Taryn eagerly agreed.

"Ya know," he began, handing her the ornate device. "You seemed happy 'bout petting that little yellow thing. I didn't know ya liked animals so much."

"I like you, don't I?" she cheekily shot back, which earnt an elbow to the arm.

"Heh. Well, since you're doin' my work for me, I'm off to get my money. Comin' to the _Ottsel_ for a night cap, later?" he asked.

"Not tonight," she said.

"Ooh, ya got a date?"

She didn't appear at all amused. "You promised to _stop_." Her arms folded and she thoughtfully tapped an index finger against her bottom lip. "Or I'll tell people you were frightened by a glowing kitty-squirrel."

"Alright, alright." He clambered into the driver's seat of his cruiser. "Ya need a lift to the Stadium?"

"No, thanks. I could do with the walk."

"Suit yourself." Jinx gave a wave and the vehicle soared off.

Taryn then made her way through the ruddy-lit area. Walking was good, she thought. It would allow her mind to wander – which was impossible with the pyromaniac around. A checklist cycled through her mind. There was much-needed money to collect from Torn, work to do for Keira at the Stadium and somewhere else to stay for the night. _Torn had better pay me_. She had savings, but it was a small amount, and intended for emergencies – ergo, it was _not_ to be touched. She did also earn a little pocket money from helping out Keira with the hoverbikes and refurbishing the place for its big opening. _Every little helps._

Taryn was feeling very focused, and that would surely serve her well; perhaps all her problems could be solved by sunset.

* * *

Deeply absorbed in repairing the engine of an outmoded J87 racer, Keira was currently preoccupied with rifling through a toolkit, searching for a specific screwdriver, and would not have even noticed the blast from a bomb, if it had been right in front of her eyes. For Taryn, that meant said mechanic would be a perfect target for petrification. All it took was a loud clear of the throat. The turquoise-haired grease monkey flinched, the tool almost flying out of her hand, then stood and approached her assistant. With a little wave and green optics sparkling mischievously, the latter handed over the strange device recovered in the Sewers.

It diffused Hagai's scowl. "Thanks." She awaited the typical pleasantries, but there was something obviously bothering the taller teen. "What is it?"

"I'd like to help with the bikes tonight, but I _really_ need to search for somewhere to stay. I was hoping I could…?" Taryn shrugged, her sentence trailing off, but the query was clear as day.

Keira batted the problem away with one swish of her hand. "Take a few hours to get a place. Come back at, say…" She checked the rectangular digital clock bolted to the wall. "…six? Then you can start helping with the fenders."

"Great. I _owe_ you for this." Overcoming her pessimism and thankful for having the mechanic as a friend, Taryn trotted away. Her next destination was the Freedom League, where she could get her pay, then head off house hunting. So far, things were looking up.

* * *

Dead on six, the eighteen year old returned to the garage. Hagai would have dared to ask how things had gone, but the disheartened disposition explained everything. Taryn had discovered there was literally _nowhere_ else to stay, but with Jak and Daxter. Another night at their place…another night _freeloading_. Whenever she felt down, work appeared to be a good distraction, so she sauntered off to the room next door – mainly so as to avoid the bombardment of questions; Keira was a caring soul, yet that was sometimes her greatest fault. The last thing needed was a 24/7 pity party.

As asked, Taryn began straightening the armour of a racer. She just wanted to get things done around the place and let the anger of a bad day fade. Then it would be less of a humiliating ordeal to admit to the demolition duo that she was _still_ homeless.

Unfortunately, the latter came sooner than she was prepared for.

"Hey, there, Sweetheart! How's it hanging?"

That voice could have only belonged to Orange Lightning. He had silently entered, along with Tess, which meant Jak was also around…_somewhere_. Why would Daxter waste a perfectly good form of transport?

"You forced your _best friend_ to let you ride on his shoulder, didn't you?" Taryn sighed, but also felt compelled to know the method used. "How'd you do it?"

"Jak's open to bribery," Daxter grinned. "_Way_ open."

"_Really_? What was the peace offering?"

"A gun mod."

"So, you bribed him with a _toy_."

"Yeah. He's a big kid, really."

"Well, at least _this time_, you actually _gave_ him something for it," she sanguinely replied.

"Oh, we wouldn't do it for free! That would just be so wrong!" Tess insisted, bounding up onto the trophy rack beside the human and observing what was being done to the hoverbike.

The latter gave a pointed look. "But how did _you_ get a lift here?"

"Jak's a gentleman."

_With an obvious weakness for the fairer sex_, Taryn thought to herself, sighing.

After a minute of obviously ominous silence, Tess continued, overdoing the casual speech. "So…how have you been?"

Not fooled for a second, the eighteen year old raised an eyebrow. "If you have something to say, just say it."

"You find anyplace else to stay? Or am I comin' to your aid again?" Daxter asked. Both women frowned at the lack of tact, but he merely shrugged. In his world, things were better out in the open, and there was no point pussyfooting around.

"Ugh…" With a slump of the shoulders and a groan, Taryn pointed an accusing finger. "I shouldn't even be talking to you, right now. Fancy not telling Jak I was staying last night."

"Yeah. Sorry about that." There was an awkward, guilty scratch of the head.

"'Sorry' does not cover me being half-asleep and having the Morph Gun pointed at my face."

"Double sorry?"

"Just don't – _please_ don't – do it again."

"Do what?"

Daxter saluted the arrival of the blue-eyed nineteen year old. Without asking, the Ottsel began reeling off the trio's conversation, and it took several minutes for Jak to even attempt a word in edgeways. The pair of women laughed.

"Glad you've cheered up," Tess smiled. Taryn's face dropped; those words would probably begin the dreaded pity party. As expected, Jak was concerned and wanted to know what was happening.

"Cheered up? What's wrong?" His expression softened, but her reluctance kept her silent. "Come on. You can talk to me."

There was no getting around that, so she relented. _Might as well ask now, rather than later._ "I was wondering if I could stay at your place another night."

He was ready to respond, but the orange furball dived in and interrupted. "Sure ya can! That spare room's warm and waitin'!"

"Dax…" Jak groaned, pressing a gloved hand to his face, but, when he looked up, his countenance quickly lightened. Embarrassed, Taryn couldn't meet his eyes, turning back to the hoverbike and pretending to focus on work again. To gain her attention, he affectionately nudged her with his arm; not expecting it, she flinched. "Don't worry about finding another place. You can stay with us as long as you like."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't put you out or anything?"

"No, it's still not putting me out."

"Thanks, Jak."

"Hey!" the Ottsel barked, affronted about not also being thanked. "What about me?"

Chuckling, she patted the top of his head, as if he was merely a pet cat, and not a Precursor. "Thanks, Fuzzball."

In all honesty, such generosity and kindness hadn't been expected, if she was to base opinions of the pair on hearsay. Several tales of Daxter's self-sacrificing deeds did not bear repeating, which seemed somewhat absurd, since he was the one that had begun them, whilst Jak was commonly talked about by the Haven populace – mostly of how he saved the world, could channel all forms of Eco (a debatably good or bad thing, given his apparent "dark side"), and even the occasional gossip about the pros and cons of placing him on the city's throne; as a simple man, however, there was little that could be said. His closest friends knew of some likes and dislikes, but that was it. The only person that could spout every little detail of the man was his furry friend.

A pat on the shoulder returned Taryn's psyche to the present. She was faced with a warm smile from the inseparable pair. There was a little thump, as Orange Lightning hopped onto his buddy's shoulder armour.

"We're gonna head off, now," Jak remarked. "You take care, okay, Taryn?"

"Okay," she agreed, then turned to Tess. "Are you staying or going?"

"I wanna catch up with you and Keira. I haven't seen either of you in _ages_!" Tess remarked.

"See ya later, girls!" Daxter cried out, animatedly waving. The boys exited the room, passing Keira on the way, where she and Jak shared a hug. Curious and unable to stop herself, Taryn subtly observed, from the corner of an eye. As ashamed as she was to admit it, seeing those two embracing made her feel a little uneasy – not that she disliked them or the fact they were a couple, but it obviously meant any interaction with Jak would be purely platonic; there was no way Taryn could break he and Keira apart. No, things would be easier if the blue-haired teen just watched from afar.

Raising a scrutinous brow and leaning over, Tess cleared her throat. "Tarry?"

"Hmm?" The taller teen would have complained about the nickname, but she wasn't quite cognisant at that moment. Being prodded, she quickly became alert and frowned. "_What_?"

"Lost you for a second, there. I was seriously considering saying 'Haven calling Taryn', but a poke works just as good."

"Oh, right. I'm fine."

"You didn't _look_ fine. You were watching those two hugging. Did you want one?"

Taryn didn't like what her friend was getting at. "Stop it."

"Okay, okay. It really is a surprise, 'though. I didn't know you and Jak _lived_ together." Just as Tess finished her sentence, the mechanic entered the room.

"Who lives together?" Keira enquired.

"Taryn's bunking with Jak at the moment," the female Ottsel elucidated.

Hagai looked surprised. "You live with Jak?"

"It's temporary," Taryn retorted, a tad hastily, wary of people grasping the wrong end of the stick – a petty misunderstanding, resulting in a rift between them all, would be unbearable – so added, "It was Daxter's idea. I stayed there last night. And it looks like I'm going to be there for a while longer."

A nod and smile from Keira was a relief. It appeared she wasn't at all bothered by such things. Even with a potentially problematic matter safely sailed past, the air remained awkward and Taryn felt unsure how to make conversation; after failing to join in the banter between the other two women, she abandoned chit-chat for labour…and silent contemplation.

Matters were a little bumpy at present, which accounted for her petulance, but, with two good roommates in a guaranteed domicile, things were definitely looking up. And, when she went home, there would hopefully be a hot meal and at least one decent night's sleep awaiting her.


	3. Appreciation

**A/N:** The first couple of chapters were really introductory, but, here onwards, the story is more orientated around Jak and Taryn and will move their relationship along. I keep watching the cutscenes over and over, to study the characters, but everyone is still hard to write. :( Oh, I changed the title and synopsis; I think they fit better now. :)

* * *

**~ Three ~**  
**Appreciation**

_What time is it?_

Green optics struggled to focus on the little silver clock atop her bedside table. Her sight bleary, it took several seconds for the digits to become legible. _Nine?_ Was that morning or evening? The curtains were drawn, making it difficult to tell, so she sat up and clambered off the bed, heading for the window and drawing the drapes.

Stars faintly twinkled in the pitch black sky and the moon had reached its waxing gibbous phase. Time and flown; it had already been a fortnight since moving into Jak's place, and Taryn had quickly settled into a routine. Tonight, she had slept well into the evening – the result of working into the early hours, but the extra money had been worth it.

Pushing the curtains back across the window, she headed to the chest of drawers, hunting for something more suitable to wear than makeshift pyjamas. She found some charcoal work boots, black jeans and a short-sleeved red shirt, then wandered across the hall and into the bathroom.

Taking a good look at herself in the mirror, she cringed. Her skin was paler than usual, although her cheeks were flushed. Splashing her face with cold water and drying it with a towel appeared to give a healthier glow. Her cobalt hair was a shambles, so she grabbed her brush and tugged it through tangled locks, gritting her teeth at one particularly large knot. Once it was free, she let out a relieved puff and left, trotting downstairs and entering the kitchen.

The house had been strangely quiet when Taryn stirred, but it was only now, after awakening properly that she realised nobody was around. In a way, it was a pleasing feeling to be allowed to relax and listen to the absence, but also a tad barren, especially without the Ottsel's cheery – albeit loud – voice or Jak's smooth baritone filling the room. At least there a portable radio sat on the table. Trotting over to it, she pressed the 'on' button, but nothing happened. Her eyes narrowed. _Typical_.

"Maybe the power pack's dead," the teen muttered to herself, tugging the back open and checking the power gauge. _Yep_. It was completely drained. She fixed the back on and decided to go on a hunt for another power pack, yet the kitchen/lounge was in utter disarray, making such a thing near-impossible. Grunting at her bad luck, it was decided to be worth her time cleaning the area up.

She began with the kitchen – dishes, cups and cutlery piled up in the sink, pens and paper scattered all over the counters and half the table, and the bin filled to capacity. Giving a shrug, she first chose to deal with the sink, but couldn't locate any washing-up liquid; trying to find some swallowed an entire ten minutes. At high speed, she travelled around the room, clearing up as she went and hoping that, in the course of it all, she would locate a power pack for the radio and washing-up liquid. Fortunately, the latter was in a cupboard…right next to the cereal. It was pulled out and planted in a more sensible place, next to the sink.

Once the kitchen was orderly, the living room was next – beginning with the couch. The seats and cushions were askew, so quickly straightened; in the process, Taryn found a remote in the sofa, which didn't appear to belong to any device. Placing it on the arm of the sofa, the rubbish was all collected in a bin bag accidentally found. Only…she wasn't sure where to put it, where it would be out of the way.

That was when she considered the door in the hallway, next to the entrance. Sauntering along and noticing it was unlocked, she trundled down the stairs and entered the basement. It took a second to find the light switch and her surroundings were illuminated by a barrage of spotlights fixed into the ceiling. Green eyes widened at what lay before her.

It was an enormous workshop. Where Taryn stood was full of vague objects covered in dust sheets, and shelves to the left and right covered in various bits and pieces of Precursor artefacts – several things were blatantly bizarre – books and racing trophies. On the floor sat a number of toolboxes. The hindmost portion of the basement had been converted into a garage. Three small steps, bordered by railings, led down to a circular parking spot. The door at the far end was currently closed.

Breaking herself from the fascinated trance, Taryn recalled the bin bag hanging from her hand and the reason she was down here in the first place. Spotting a dustbin in the corner of the room, she raced over and crammed the rubbish inside. Chores now done, a relieved breath left her lips and she decided to take a break. Against a little wooden desk, which was surprisingly clear, sat a wheelie chair. She sauntered over and planted herself on it, leaning back and closing her eyes, resting them for just for a moment…

* * *

It was decided that Torn's poker face was _impossible_ to read. After attempting numerous times to decipher whether the brunette held good or bad cards, Jak chose wisely to give up and just focus on his own hand. He inwardly sighed – luck was keeping distance from the nineteen year old tonight. He had already lost a _lot_ of money; Torn and Jinx, on the other hand, were holding their own. Daxter soared ahead. It was a shame Pecker had other plans tonight, because of his enthusiasm about fleecing his rival of money usually taught the Ottsel a lesson – unfortunately, that did not always end in the Monkaw's favour, due to Orange Lightning's 'knack' for playing.

"Are ya _sure_ you're not cheatin'?" After losing his three deuces, Jinx had become concerned; apparently, if he had swindled anyone, it would have been alright.

"I don't have to. I am a _natural_," Daxter replied, haughtily pressing his hand to his furry chest to exemplify his own brilliance. "You just suck."

The pyrotechnician did not appear convinced, but would have let it drop, had it not been a joy to antagonise the orange sidekick. "Prove it."

Affronted, the nineteen year old pointed a digit. "How about _you_ turn out _your_ pockets? Since you're so keen on the idea of cheatin'?"

A verbal fight began, which Jak attempted to stop, but failed terribly. Fortunately, Torn's voice rose about everyone else's, immediately silencing the group. "Just play and stop acting like a bunch of girls."

"Hey, uh, does that include Jak?" Daxter cheekily enquired. Said male narrowed his blue eyes, shaking his head. As usual, the thirty year old ignored such asinine remarks, instead shuffling the pack of cards and dealing again. The game continued in such silence, save for ambient noises, until a large grin spread over Jinx's face. He had teased half of the dynamic duo – now it was the other's turn.

"How's havin' Bloo around workin' for ya, Blondie?"

The teen froze, keeping his gaze set upon his cards and hoping his face was devoid of any emotion that gave away that he hadn't wanted such a question asked. No matter how he answered it, the pyromaniac would somehow twist it and turn its meaning into something very different – mostly indecent.

"Things are fine," the blue-eyed male replied.

"She's good company," the Ottsel piped in. "When she's around, of course."

"Well, if she's good company, I'm surprised at ya," Jinx retorted. "Ya left the poor girl all alone and you're here playin' poker. She coulda joined, ya know." He leant back in his chair and gave a victorious grin at the flash of annoyance in Jak's optics.

"Don't tip my chair, Jinx," Torn commanded.

"Or what?"

"_Or_ I'll turn you into a human card dispenser."

Said blonde did as he was told, mildly worried that the ex-KG would follow through with the threat; yet, that still wasn't enough for the former to stop grinning like a pumpkin.

"So, Keira's almost ready to channel Eco?" Torn casually remarked, taking another card from the pile.

"Yeah." Jak gave a look of thanks for the subject change. Well, discussing his ex-girlfriend wasn't ideal, but it was a start. At least he could keep the subject business-orientated. "That device in the Sewers was an Eco detector. It needs recalibrating, but it'll work out what type of channeller Keira is. Samos is talking about sending Dax and me into the Wasteland, to locate a pair of channeller's vambrace. Keira hates the wait, so she's distracting herself with readying the Stadium for its big opening."

"Ol' Green Stuff has kept us busy; we've been doing nothing _but _working for the past month," Orange Lightning said. "We need one good night out." He didn't attempt to hide the mischievous gleam in his eye and added, "Should get you down the Red Light District, Jak."

Said blonde sighed. _Not this again_. First Jinx, now Daxter – Jak couldn't take both of their commentaries on his romantic life. Unable to concentrate and getting nowhere in the poker game, he slapped his cards onto the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I fold."

"Touchy," the pyromaniac quipped. "Not gettin' enough?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"_Sure_ ya didn't."

"Been a long day for ya, buddy?" the Ottsel enquired, patting his best friend on the shoulder. The blonde-green male's eyes darted over to Daxter's glove and noticed something square and white poking out of it. At high speed, Jak snatched the object and gazed at it, keeping any grabbing paws at bay. It was an ace.

"You _were_ cheating!" the blue-eyed human snapped, glowering. Torn and Jinx grumbled and threw down their cards. No wonder their luck had been bad.

"You wouldn't dare cheat with Pecker around," Torn retorted. "Next time, we're getting him in and your ass is going to the cleaners."

Daxter shrank in size, as everyone took back their stolen money. In a way, however, Jak was relieved things had ended that way. His optics checked the clock and he realised it wasn't far off midnight. Standing up and tugging his leather jacket from the back of the chair, he slung it on and pocketed his meagre winnings.

"Where you off to, sport?" Jinx asked, casually striking a match and lighting up a fresh cigar.

"Home," the nineteen year old said simply.

"Oh, _really_?" The elder blonde raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's getting late." Jak attempted to make his expression appear oblivious to the hidden meaning behind that query, but failed.

Fortunately, Jinx dropped it. "Try 'n' get Tarry to come with ya, next time, alright? It'll make things more interestin'."

"Hell no! Not after last time!" Torn interjected, knowing the pyrotechnician's mind too well. Last time had involved the pretence of a straightforward game of poker, and most of the girls had agreed to join in. Then Jinx had revealed it was, in fact, _strip_ poker. He ran for his life, after that, frightened by the wrath of half a dozen women. What worried the ex-Krimzon Guard was that Taryn had not heard about that particular session, which meant she would naively play. Jak hoped she would say yes to a _proper_ game; her humour was perfect for deflecting the pyromaniac.

"See ya!" Daxter waved frantically. Torn gave a farewell nod, then concentrated on the game again. The five foot ten male left the place a little alcohol-fuelled, ambling towards the Sand Shark and clambering inside. Starting the engine, the vehicle shot off, leaving a little plume of exhaust behind it.

When Jak returned home, he could head up the basement and finish an intricate gadget he was halfway through making, without the Ottsel's interference, for once. Then the blonde recalled that Taryn was still at home. Would she be a distraction, too?

* * *

The roar of an engine and opening of the garage door startled the blue-haired teen awake. Rearranging her mind to make sense of the situation, she quickly realised Jak had returned. She swung the wheelie chair around, facing the garage door and awaiting the surprise he would surely wear on his face – hopefully pleased with her efforts.

The Sand Shark pulled into the garage and the blonde male clambered out of the vehicle. At the sight of Taryn waiting for him, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"

She appeared bewildered by his insistence. "The basement door was unlocked, and…" Was he angry with her? Was she even allowed in the basement? "Am I not allowed here? Because I can just go back upstairs-"

"No," he interrupted, his expression still puzzled. "You're allowed in here. I'm just surprised to see you. I've had a long day." He let out a chuckle. "Thought you'd still be fast asleep. You looked so tired this morning."

For a split second, she wondered if he'd watched her sleep, but a dim memory made her realise that she had passed Jak on the way in and given him a sleepy "good morning", before hitting the hay. She sniggered at the memory. "I woke up at nine. Nobody was around." She shrugged. "So…what plans did you have for the rest of the night?"

Looking at the green-eyed girl that stood before him, smiling, Jak realised he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on any work tonight. He scratched the gadget off his mental checklist and moved it to tomorrow. "Nothing, really." Turning his attention away from her, he remembered the bags in the passenger seat and trotted off to get them.

Out of curiosity, she followed and watched his movements. "What have you got there?"

"Food. Hungry?"

As if answering the question, Taryn's stomach rumbled. She placed a hand on it and looked a tad apologetic. "Heh. I suppose I am."

She assisted him with carrying the bags upstairs, to the kitchen/lounge; much to Jak's astonishment, the room was clean and tidy, with everything sensibly placed.

"You did all this?" he enquired. When he looked at the teen, she smiled and he could tell that it was what had occupied her evening. "It was nice of you. Thanks." 'Nice' didn't seem a good enough word, but anything else might have been inappropriate.

"I, uh, did it as thanks," she admitted.

"You don't owe me anything."

"Then think of it as gift, Mr. Ungrateful." She poked her tongue out.

Responding with a shake of the head, he placed the bags down onto the counter and pulled out several containers of food. She grabbed a couple of plates, knives and forks and together they arranged who was eating what. The pair carried it to the living room and planted themselves on the sofa. He looked around for a moment, before locating the television remote behind him on a side table and turning the set on.

Observing where Jak had found the remote, she said, "I was looking for that. It was in the laundry basket."

Even he appeared bewildered by that statement. "I didn't put it there," he quickly excused himself, but realised that sounded very guilty. "Why were you looking in the laundry basket, anyway?"

"I was tidying for you. The remote I found in the couch didn't belong to the TV. I also found washing-up liquid next to the cereal. It wasn't a treasure hunt that got out of hand, was it?"

"No. I'm not a little kid, anymore."

"Oh, yes, you are," she joshed.

He rolled his eyes, but his tenor turned serious. "I've been teased _all_ night. I expected it from Dax and Jinx, but not from you."

Her face turned mock-ashamed, which made him laugh. She swirled the food around her fork, but still didn't take a bite; it was too hot. Noticing how quiet is was in the house and aware Daxter had not accompanied the blonde home, she wondered what the former was up to tonight. "Where's Fuzzball?"

"He's with Tess tonight, so it's just us," Jak explained. Lifting a forkful of food towards his mouth, he saw Taryn's expression out of the corner of his eye. She appeared very mischievous, but he couldn't work out what about. Putting his cutlery down, he looked directly at the blue-haired adolescent. "What's funny?"

"There was a large, weird shapeless thing in the basement, covered by tarpaulin. It was really hard to resist peeking."

"_Taryn_…please tell me you didn't."

"Calm down; I left it alone. Just…please tell me it's not a breakfast machine for Daxter. It's the kind of thing I'd imagine he'd bribe you to make."

"What? No." Jak had a mental image of using such an invention to make breakfast, and all the things that could possibly go wrong. The Ottsel, of course, would _adore_ such a thing – that and not even considering one in the first place was precisely why the blonde had not gone there. His cerulean irises lit up in surprise. "What do you mean, 'bribe'?"

"The loudmouth gave you a gun mod, in exchange for letting him ride on your shoulder."

"Oh, that. It was worth it."

"Heh. Daxter was right."

"Huh? About what?"

"You're a big kid."

"He said that?" His eyes narrowed slightly and she realised she had managed to get Orange Lightning in trouble – not that the latter didn't deserve it. Agreeing with the Ottsel, however, might not have been the best course of action. Instead of replying, Taryn focused on the television screen – the programme was a news story on the Mar Memorial Stadium's reopening – and she immediately regretted doing so. A part of her felt uneasy about the races being restarted, but she pushed it aside. There was no need to think about that now.

Sadly, Jak was oblivious to her disquiet. "Have you raced in the Stadium?"

"Yeah, but it's been years," she replied, forcing herself to relax against the sofa cushion a little more. "I'm out of practice…don't know if I'd be able to race like I used to."

"I'm sure Keira would let you do practice runs on the track."

"Yeah, I know." Knowing he was trying to be helpful made Taryn unsure whether to explain herself or not. _Just stop thinking about it!_ her mind screamed. Eager to change the subject, she turned her head to face Jak, and saw he was leaning against the sofa, eyes closed. Biting her lip, she dared to lean forward and placed her hand on his thigh. At the mere contact, he simultaneously jumped and his eyes snapped open, confusion painted on his face.

It took a moment for her to realise she was still holding his leg; she quickly snatched her hand back and turned back to her unfinished food. "You were falling asleep, Jak," she said quickly.

"Oh, was I? Guess I should get some shut-eye." He rubbed both eyes with a thumb and forefinger, then straightened up.

"Look, I…" she began, unsure what to say next. "…I know we don't see much of each other…but it was…well, it was nice to talk."

"Uh, you're welcome." Jak swallowed, feeling a tad uncomfortable with the sentiment and decided to distract himself with collecting dishes. Taryn, however, was having none of that; she playfully batted his hands away and did it instead. Left with nothing else to do, he stood up and stretched, which pulled his white t-shirt up a little and revealed a sliver of tanned stomach. The blue bombshell watched from the corner of her eye, but had to force herself to look away after a couple of seconds – the last thing she wanted was him suspicious about her feelings for him – and went about putting the dishes and cutlery in the sink and empty boxes in the bin. With her back to him, he wouldn't be able to observe the dark pink cascading across her cheeks or silent berating she was currently giving herself for reacting that way. He was _not available_; maybe, if she repeated that mantra enough times, it would put the foolish, hormonal thoughts out of her psyche.

Oblivious – or, at least, _acting_ that way – Jak mentally shrugged at her behaviour, considered it a "woman thing", and trundled upstairs, calling "goodnight, Taryn" on the way up.

Daydreaming, her response was momentarily delayed. "Night, Jak."

Hearing him reach the top of the stairs and the closing of his bedroom door, Taryn let out the breath she was holding and hung her head. A low groan left her vocal chords and she staggered back to the sofa, exhaustedly launching herself onto it. Green optics studied the racing on the television screen and, with a scowl, her thumb hit a button and changed the channel.

So much for not thinking about things she didn't want to…

* * *

**A/N: **So, how was that? The poker game was intended to break up the chapter with a more Jak-orientated piece and to get in some more humour. There was a mention in this chapter, and the last one, of Keira training to become a Sage. Jak's words about being sent into the Wasteland are a hint of what is to come. :D I'm very excited about writing it. And the conversation between Taryn and Jak about racing will lead somewhere, I'm sure. ;)

Well, until next time!


	4. One To Another

**A/N:** My writing was interrupted, so I wasn't able to post this when I planned. I also _cleverly_ managed to delete quite a bit of writing for this story – fortunately, I can remember practically all of it.

I put Vin in here, because I love him! XD It always made me sad that he died at the end of _Jak II_. :( AND OH, MY GOD, THIS CHAPTER HAS NO ACTUAL JINX IN IT (although he is mentioned)! How refreshing. XD

Thanks to those that have reviewed and added this story to their favourites. I really appreciate it. X3 Super-duper thanks, of course, to melliemellie, for putting up with my worries about _every little thing_ in each chapter and assuring me all is fine. You are a very willing guinea pig, I must say.

* * *

**~ Four ~**  
**One To Another**

Jak could have _sworn_ he'd placed the Jet-Board in his basement - it was always next to his desk – but, for some reason, it wasn't there, and he couldn't remember lending it to anyone. Of course, such a thing would _only_ occur on a day he specifically needed it for a mission. After a morning talk with Torn at the Freedom League headquarters (which actually felt far more like being nagged by an old woman), the blonde had, in his typical, heroic style, accepted the assignment and returned home, to collect his Jet-Board – he didn't carry it around everywhere with him, after all.

So, now that the device was nowhere to be found, Jak found himself stuck. He had the laborious effort of explaining to the ex-Commander why the mission could not be done, as well as the somehow _more_ laborious trudge around Haven City, trying to find the damn Jet-Board.

At least the nineteen year old had a fairly good clue who had 'borrowed' it.

* * *

"It's sure nice of you to do this," Vin's voice echoed within the Power Station. "I, uh, don't get much company in here."

"You're welcome," Taryn responded, kneeling down and unscrewing the bolts that fixed a metal plate to one of the consoles. Once it was free, she began fiddling with the wires, disconnecting some and tugging out an old energy pack. The new one sat in a box next to her. She unpacked it and fitted it snugly inside. All the while, the white-haired geek chatted to her – mostly about components, wires and grids, but it was talk, all the same.

"It's been too long time, since I saw you last," she smiled. _Should have seen you sooner_, she guiltily thought. After everything he had done for she, Tess and Jinx over the years, it was a disappointment that the blue-haired teen had not made a trip sooner – not since Vin's death. She was continuing to deal with the shock that he still existed in some form, and had worried for ages that it might be too strange to talk to his digital self, but, upon meeting him again, the pair was as amicable as ever.

"How are Tess and Jinx?" he enquired.

"Jinx is his same, sarcastic self. He doesn't actually say when anything's wrong, but I can tell. He's just not the type to talk about feelings. Typical male," she grinned. "And Tess is dealing with being an Ottsel really well. She's got Daxter to support her, I suppose. They're always lovey-dovey, whenever I see them."

Vin looked sideways at her, which was extremely distracting. After a questioning glance from the young woman, he explained himself. "You're envious."

Her face glowed lobster pink. "I am not envious!"

Having known her since she was small, he had become accustomed to her behaviour and was well aware of when he had hit the nail on the head. Whenever she managed to become very embarrassed, her cheeks turned lobster pink and she would shrink into herself. The hologram grinned at her, causing a pout to form on her lips.

"Okay, I won't tease you anymore," he said. Slowly, her countenance returned to a neutral state and she returned to her work. He watched her focusing on the wires of the console with incredible ease, and fought a smile creeping onto his face. _She really is like me_, he thought, yet wasn't quite brave enough to voice it.

The adolescent hurriedly changed the subject. "When I come here next, I'll bring Tess and Jinx with me," she promised.

"Thanks, Taryn," Vin said.

Her lips tugged upwards, into a smile. He was one of the few friends that actually called her by her proper name, and, for that, he earnt her undying respect…except when he embarrassed her, of course, but she always thought of ways to get her revenge. At some point, she would find some way of wreaking vengeance for his comments about her envy towards Tess and Daxter. Past threats of refusing to do maintenance work for Vin had always failed, because Taryn always felt guilty about not helping him and could never say 'no' to the man.

She was about to speak, again, when a loud, energetic tenor bounced off the walls and made the pair cringe.

"Hey, there, gorgeous!" Daxter was charging into the room, beaming…which surely meant trouble. He had a little grey object in his hands, which Taryn recognised to be Jak's Jet-Board. Alarm bells rang in her head. _Uh-oh…what does he want to do with that?_

"What are you doing here?" she enquired, raising a blue eyebrow at the Ottsel. He raised the retracted device up to her, almost victoriously, as if he'd acquired it through skill or luck…almost like _he'd stolen it_. She had an inkling he had done so. Whatever he wanted, she had no interest in it.

He shrugged. "What, I can't just come and say hello?"

"Suspicious, much?" she remarked. "What do you want?"

"Ya got some free time, right?"

"I'll be done in ten minutes. Why?"

"How about we get down to the Jet-Board course and have a little play around?"

"You still sound suspicious…" she commented. "Did Jak let you borrow it?"

"Yeah. He said it'd be fine!" Daxter insisted.

"Really?" Her green optics nervously squinted, not entirely convinced.

"_Suuuuure_. I asked."

Against better judgement – it was definite that there was something wrong with Daxter's plan – Taryn was enticed by the idea of racing around on the Jet-Board. Precursors knew why, but she nodded, her mischievous side kicking in. "Alright."

* * *

As expected, Tess was at the bar of _The Naughty Ottsel_, exuberantly relaying local gossip and her love's latest adventures. The blue-eyed hero entered, unsure how to respond to such tales, but decided it was better to just not input anything. He approached the bar, prepared for the stupid things Daxter was probably getting up to. With _Jak's_ Jet-Board. The female Ottsel was always the best person to ask for Orange Lightning's whereabouts, and now was no different.

"Oh, he went to the Power Room about an hour ago. To see Taryn," she elucidated.

_Taryn? Why does Dax want to see Taryn?_ Jak wondered. "Was Daxter carrying anything?"

"Not that I saw…but we both know what he's like."

_Tell me about it_, the blonde grumbled to himself.

As if to answer his next question, before he'd even asked, Tess added, "Tarry's fiddling with the consoles, to improve Vin's programming. She's been there practically all morning, so should quit soon."

"Thanks." He headed out the door, practically at a run.

Now there was a very good idea of what had occurred. Daxter had taken the Jet-Board and tried to convince Taryn to go on it; perhaps succeeded. So, it was to the Power Station, where Vin would hopefully not talk Jak's ear off _too_ much, and wherever Daxter and Taryn had taken the Jet-Board. If all went well, maybe Torn's assignment could be completed, after all.

* * *

Unfortunately, Jak _did_ manage to get an earful of the holographic geek's techno-babble, and it far outdid _War & Peace_. Fortunately, the nineteen year old had managed to build up a resilience to it over the years, so he no longer fell asleep.

"Where did they go? It's important," he interrupted, unable to stand any more.

"The Jet-Board course in the Stadium," Vin said simply. "They should still be there."

"Good." The blonde rushed for the exit, but the older male's voice caused the former to come to a stop.

"Hey, uh, Jak?"

"What is it?"

"When you find them…don't give Taryn too much of a hard time, okay?"

"Don't worry; she's not the one in trouble." _It's the little orange thing I'm going to kill._ Jak wisely did not voice that, proceeding out of the Power Station pronto.

* * *

Traversing the Stadium and quickly making his way down to the Jet-Board course, the young male reached the enormous room, with its half-pipes, rails and hoops. Cerulean optics immediately narrowed. There the pair was, riding along on _Jak's_ Jet-Board, as if without a care in the world.

"Found you."

Hearing such a recognisable voice, the duo circled round. Daxter knew his time was up. Taryn's eyes widened, as she saw the expression on Jak's face, and felt unsure if he was going to kill her, but was not partial to finding out. The Ottsel shrank behind her leg, in a futile effort to hide, his fur giving his position away. After manoeuvring herself, she came to a stop before the blonde male.

Daxter's first instinct was to flee. Unfortunately, trying to outrun a man capable of channelling Light Eco, therefore slowing down time, did not favour the Ottsel. Jak's hand reached out, and Orange Lightning panicked.

"Not the tail! Not the _taiiiiiiil_!" the latter cried out in horror. Sadly, that was precisely how he was caught.

"Whoa there, Dax! You're going nowhere." The blonde dangled his best friend by the tail, several feet from the ground. Not one to admit defeat, the Ottsel attempted to run away, albeit upside-down, which was, as expected, an utter failure. Ignoring that, Jak turned to Taryn, the frown still on his face.

The cogs had already turned in the eighteen year old's head and it confirmed that she had been roped into mischief. She slapped both hands to her head and moaned. "I _saw_ it coming. Why didn't I _listen_?"

"Taryn?" the human male asked. She looked up, a sheepish expression on her face, and swallowed.

"Look, I was working and Daxter suggested I take a break. He showed me the Jet-Board and said _you_ said it was okay for me to have a go," she elucidated, still nervous, but the blonde didn't really seem angry.

"What made you trust Daxter? He pulls this stuff all the time," he said, almost laughing, shaking said Ottsel and earning a "hey" in response.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "It's my fault."

"Yes, it is," Daxter determinedly agreed. "So, _she's_ the one who should be punished, here."

Jak rolled his eyes. "You can use the Jet-Board any time you like. Just…let me know when, okay? 'Cause I don't wanna end up needing it and find out it's not there." He scowled at his best friend. "The way I did today."

"Oh. Okay," she smiled, relieved.

"Can I use it, too?" Orange Lightning asked.

"No."

"WHAT? That's not fair! And you're not gonna _punish_ her? After what she _did_? _Jaaaaak_! You need to _punish_ her!" Overcome with impish intent, Daxter leant as close as possible, in his current position, and, in a low voice, spoke words that he knew would embarrass the one holding him by the tail. "Give her a good spank."

Said result was achieved. The blonde's face coloured and he glared, sure they were destined to be enemies in their next lives. "_Shut up_," Jak said, through gritted teeth. He was afraid Taryn would hear the bigmouth. Then how would things be explained? Jak poked Daxter in the chest. "Don't mess things up, got it?"

The Ottsel squinted and folded his arms, prepared for a challenge. "_Or _what?"

Realisation struck the hero's face; he had a problem on his hands. "Okay, okay…what's the cost to keep your mouth shut?"

"Hmm…" Teasing, Daxter stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'll keep quiet, _if_ you move this snail-paced relationship with Taryn into a higher gear."

The blonde scowled, but what was the alternative? "Deal." He begrudgingly dropped Daxter on the floor. The latter landed in a heap.

The blue-haired teen had watched the two males whispering to one another, but she merely shrugged, instead focusing on the mechanics of the Jet-Board. Pausing for a moment, she shook her head and raised her voice. "I still don't understand how I'm _not_ in trouble."

"Don't knock it! Jak's not usually that generous," Daxter beamed, aware of getting his friend into yet more hot water. She raised an eyebrow and handed the device back to the blue-eyed human, then began heading towards the exit. As if a form of apology, the Ottsel hopped onto Jak's shoulder and the pair tailed the female, giving her a little space, so the boys could talk.

"I'm warning you," the blonde muttered, in a menacing tone.

"I'm not meddling," Daxter whispered his insistence. "I'm helping!"

"Well, help me by _not_ helping me."

"You want me to…_what_? That doesn't make _sense_!"

Jak wanted to tear his hair out. Feeling Dark Eco bubbling in his veins, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "What I'm saying _is_ that I need to do it myself."

"So, _do_ it. She's right in front of us. What better timing? I can run ahead, if it'll help," Orange Lightning retorted, but his friend's expression was a tad apprehensive. The former sighed.

Taryn turned on her heel, facing the two, and gave a wave. "Catch you later." She moved quickly, and Jak's hesitation meant that it was too late for him to chase after her. So, he simply watching her retreating back.

"See? You blew it," Daxter remarked. "What the heck are you waitin' for, anyway?"

The blonde gave no reply. He honestly didn't know.

* * *

The Gun Course was always an appealing place to hang out. There weren't actually many people that tried out for it – the odd mercenary, civilian and a few regular Freedom League soldiers, who all brazenly flirted with whatever woman was there at the time – so it meant the green-eyed eighteen year old could generally work in peace.

Now, however, it was a little more stressful than usual. Working on the complexities of a new gun she and Tess had collaborated on was beginning to hurt the former's head.

"I really don't know how this is going to work…" Taryn grumbled, slumping in her seat and setting various pieces down.

"That's because you're thinking of the _entire workings_ of the gun," the smaller female retorted. "Focus on just your bit. That's what I'm doing." It evidently worked for her, since she was steaming ahead with the frame. A small smirk spread across her lips, as if she already knew the answer to the question she was about to ask. "You never told me who this is for."

"Me."

"Nuh-uh. I know you. You wouldn't be interested in this kind of gun. So…?"

"None of your business, Tess."

"Ooh, I think I can guess!"

Taryn let out a cry of exasperation. "Can we please not do this? The guessing game? It's painful."

"Jinx isn't here, so it won't be painful this time," Tess corrected. "So, let me see if I can work it out…who would want a heavy-duty, Light Eco-absorbing grenade launcher?"

"You're as bad as Daxter," the blue-haired teen scowled, trying to work again…and failing. She didn't want to play this silly game. The last one had resulted in her going into a raging fury and threatening Jinx and Tess within an inch of their lives. Taryn's cheeks flushed pink, as she realised the impending doom of the Ottsel successfully guessing the gun's intended recipient.

"You are _so_ easy to read!" Tess chortled. "I didn't know you were close enough to give each other presents."

_Damn you_. "Alright, you got me. It's for Jak."

"That's _so_ sweet of you."

"I feel guilty about not paying rent. That's all. Can we move on, now?"

"Seems a lot of effort-"

The eighteen year old's eyes actually flashed with anger. "Stop it, okay? And don't tell anyone. Not even your furball lover boy."

Tess raised her palms in surrender. "Sure, sure. I promise." Her eyes lit up, and she stretched out a paw, nudging Taryn. "Talk of the Devil."

The latter's mind distracted, the Ottsel's words didn't initially sink in.

"Hey, Taryn. Tess," Jak smiled. Taryn froze, turned around, and faced the blonde. Her optics widened and a large grin slowly crept along her face. Approaching her side, he leant down and stared at the materials in her hand. "What are you making?"

"I'm helping Tess with a gun," she responded.

"Does she really need help with that?" he cheekily enquired.

"I'm sitting right here, you two." The Ottsel mock-pouted, but it soon fizzled out into a grin. "So, what brings you down here?"

"I finished my mission, so Torn's happy, and now I'm free for the day."

"Can't get enough of me, huh?" the green-eyed teen teased. He rolled his eyes at her, then took a seat, where she was working, and silently watched. To begin with, it was a tad distracting, but she soon became used to his inquisitive presence. "I saw Vin earlier. I was upgrading some of the equipment for him. He seems like he's doing better, since things have become peaceful."

"I didn't know you were so close," he remarked.

"Vin looked after me a lot, when I was younger. He used to keep an eye on me in the Power Room. I soon started picking up on electronics and eventually helped him maintain the place…not that he really needed it. I think he must have just liked my company."

"So…there was nobody else?"

"Not really. I'm an orphan," she replied, somewhat sombrely. "It's surprising the amount of adults that don't like looking after a lost little girl."

"Well, you found Jinx and me in the streets and dragged us along to see Vin, too," Tess piped in. "Vin found it impossible to say 'no' to your big green eyes and blue pigtails."

"Blue pigtails?" Jak smirked. The eighteen year old looked embarrassed, for a third time that day.

"Yes…laugh it off, Blondie," she sighed.

"Me and Jinx used to tease her _all the time_, when she was younger," the Ottsel giggled.

"Don't remind me," Taryn groaned, slapping a palm to her face. "The stuff we used to get up to back then…"

"You know, I still have that picture of us that Vin took," Tess grinned. The eighteen year old's face fell.

"I'd like to see that," Jak remarked.

"No, you wouldn't," Taryn cut in. He simply smiled at her continued mortification.

"I _have_ given you a place to stay, so you owe me," he said.

She squinted at his mischievous way of winning the argument, and fought to keep herself from sulking, instead choosing to glare. "Low blow. Alright, you can see it sometime."

The blonde male thought for a minute, then spoke in a gently, but slightly uncertain manner. "So…being an orphan…do you…remember anything about your parents?"

"Nothing about my mother. All I remember about my father is that he had blue hair and green eyes…like me. I doubt he's still alive, but it would be nice to find him again, one day."

"If you ever begin a search, let me know. I can help you look."

"Oh, um, thanks, Jak," she replied, a little awkwardly. The topic was becoming too much to discuss, so she placed him in the hot seat. "Now it's your turn."

"My turn?" he asked, wearing a blank expression.

"Don't play dumb. I barely know anything about you," she retorted.

Jak, for the briefest of moments, was stumped. He thought back through his nineteen years, choosing to explain briefly about how he'd met Daxter, when they (as well as Samos and Keira) had saved the world from Gol and Maia, then how the Rift Rider had brought the quartet through time and they'd landed in Haven City; he described the fight against the Baron and Kor, and how good people had been lost to the rebel's cause. Jak said very little on his adventures in the Wasteland and Spargus; Taryn had little understanding of the reason, and he was reluctant to tell her about his connection with Damas.

Jak turned his commentary towards the Old World, describing the pale sands of Sentinel Beach – how he would dash pebbles across the waters with Daxter, where they would challenge one another. The red-head always insisted on winning, but Jak would triumph every time. The Ottsel would also insist he knew best about how to throw pebbles across the water and refused to listen to his friend's suggestions – one day, Jak caught Daxter copying the blonde's technique, and the latter's cheeks turned the colour of his hair.

Tess silently listened, whilst fixing weapon parts together, occasionally smiling – particularly whenever her love was mentioned.

When Jak stopped talking, Taryn noticed that most of the things he had said hadn't really described his past at all, and that she had actually learnt very little about him. But she thought better than to pry; when anyone asked too much about his past or feelings, he tended to turn quiet and thoughtful. So, deciding she had heard enough of the Old World, she mentioned the Kid and his pet Crocadog.

"Then he left, and I never saw him again," she explained. "That Crocadog was always placid with me. We came to some kind of agreement that I'd feed him, but only if he never growled or tried to bite me."

The blonde chuckled. "You sound fond of him."

"Well, I do love Crocadogs." She shrugged. "The Kid was adorable, too. I'd look after him, sometimes…when the Shadow had a lot on his plate."

His optics lit up in surprise. "You did? I didn't know that."

"Yeah. I'd chase him around the Hideout or Power Station – he had the funniest little laugh. We'd play tricks occasionally, until Vin scowled at us and called us a nuisance. One day, the Crocadog started chewing on some electrical cables, and it got one Hell of a shock! Smoke even started coming off him. Vin was so angry…he had to reboot the system." She started laughing uncontrollably at the recollection.

Tess giggled and nodded. "I remember that day. You brought the Crocadog over for me and Jinx to see. It was all black and everything."

"It looked bewildered, for the most part…until it realised Jinx was taking the piss out of it. It bit into his leg," the green-eyed female snickered.

It was an amusing situation to observe. Jak had never witnessed Taryn laughing in such a carefree way, and she certainly had never talked about herself that much to anybody but close friends. Such fondness for her friends had his lips curving into a smirk, but it was the comment about the Kid that really had him amused…and comforted. That little boy had taken a liking to Taryn and she had cared for him a great deal – clearly still did. Perhaps it had been the connection of one orphan to another. If only she'd known exactly who that Kid was…

Maybe Jak would tell her, one day.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh, there are comments and interaction in this chapter regarding friendship between Taryn and Vin, and some history, which is obviously all AU. I wanted to mention an idea I had, but wasn't sure if it would work out in this story. It regards Taryn not knowing who her parents were, but that she just remembers the blue hair and green eyes of her father.

I thought it would be interesting if Vin turned out to be Taryn's father, which would explain why he's close to her. He obviously has never told her, for fear of the Baron using her as leverage to force Vin to work. Does it sound interesting? Yes? No?


End file.
